But tradition is tradition, damn it. So here's somethin' to make you want to spill your guts, so there'll be more room for leftover turkey and dressing. Consider it a favor. I mean, granny's got to get some too, after all that work in the kitchen. Wait a minute, where's grannies cooter? Eeeeeew.
And here's this...
Sex is the tabasco sauce which an adolescent national
palate sprinkles on every course in the menu.
--Mary Day Winn
6 comments:
No, Grandma, noooooooo!
Oh, the humanity!
Thanks, FHB.
I just puked up every calorie I consumed yesterday.
Damn! I think I just threw up in my mouth. Now, I'm going to go poke my eyes with a stick and then run out in traffic.
That was effen' hilarious.
BTW, thanks for the insightful comments lately on my blog. I can tell you put a lot of thought into 'em.
So, what about those of us that don't like tabasco?
Christina - hay, mission accomplished, only I'm still eatin' the leftovers. Remember... binge and purge, binge and purge.
James - No problem dude. I love to comment at your place, and love your take on things. Don't show up as often as I should, but make up for it with the occasional magnum opus.
Becky - Well then, substitute the sauce of your own choosing. I guess the point of the quote is to say that we cover up our life and experience with a spice that erases the subtleties of things and distracts us with titillation. Sort of typical high brow, euro-lefty critique of American culture, but it rings true to me. Hey, bring on the picante sauce and let fly with the boobies, is all I'll say.
Geez Bastard, that is almost Tubgirl like.
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